


Mitakihara Any%

by Mockwater



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, Gotta Go Fast, Short, homura angst, hope you're not sick of angst by now, if someone tells me it's wrong to hope I'll just quicksave and reload, is it just me or is writing these tags half the fun of posting, kinder-n-gentler kyoko, maybe canon-compliant if you squint, sayaka "TJ" miki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24521506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mockwater/pseuds/Mockwater
Summary: “A shield turn is a shield turn. You can’t say it’s only a half.” Homura gets on the level with the four people her life has revolved around for longer than she cares to think about.
Relationships: Akemi Homura/Sakura Kyouko
Comments: 9
Kudos: 60





	Mitakihara Any%

“You are…” Kyoko pauses to rip open her bag of chips with her teeth, “the craziest person I’ve ever met. And that’s saying something, ‘cuz Mami and me go way back, and I haven’t known _you_ anywhere near that long.”

Homura winces. “First, ouch. Second, can’t you just use your hands?”

“They’re full though.” Kyoko raises the controller. “Gonna play or not?”

“I--” Homura pinches the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Yes. I’ll play.”

She crosses to where Kyoko is lounging in front of one of the low, circular benches, fiddling with the game’s menu. As it turns out, a room full of floating holographic screens makes a pretty decent home theater system. _Not that I ever would’ve thought to use it for this. I’ve got all the entertainment I can handle._

Homura sighs and takes a seat. “How do you play?”

“Nothin’ to it. Here.” Kyoko passes another controller up to her from the floor. “Left stick moves, right attacks. Also ya do a dash attack if you press those two--” she gestures vaguely at the controller-- “at the same time. S’like a combo move. It's sure comin' down out there, huh?” She nods at the group of holograms currently acting as a window.

 _Moves and flash attacks what?_ “I see,” Homura lies. “You’ll need to go easy on me, though.” Kyoko makes a noise that could be anywhere between a guffaw and a cackle and clicks through another half-dozen menus. The interface brightens and folds into a dizzying array of what appear to be--

“Cats?” Homura squints at the floating screen. “This is a game where you fight with cats?”

“Isn’t it awesome?” Kyoko grins, stuffing another handful of chips into her mouth. “Ishh the besht. Geniush.”

It’s tempting to stop time, pull up the manual on the web, and totally hand Kyoko’s butt to her after practicing for a few hours, but Homura forces herself to smile thinly and leave her phone where it is. _The internet doesn’t work so well in stopped time anyway._ Instead she picks a cat that reminds her vaguely of a Witch-- clutching what look like two long, ragged ribbons in its paws-- and plays.

By the time they finish, Homura has graduated, in Kyoko’s words, from “amazingly bad at this” to “just, ya’know, regular bad at this” and Kyoko has racked up a teetering pile of tiny feline skulls that dwarf her own cavalier cat on the trophy screen. 

The red magical girl yawns hugely and sets down her controller, stretching like a cat herself. “If you keep at it for like, another…” She pretends to do math on her fingers. “Another month, you can probably start going up against the silver CPU.” She grins at Homura.

 _How do I tell her I’m never touching this again?_ “Beginner’s luck,” Homura says, smiling back at her.

“Good food, too.” Kyoko eyes the empty dishes on the counter wistfully. “Nice of you. You’re not just trying to get me to sleep with you, right?” She raises an eyebrow at Homura. “‘Cuz, you never know, I might totally be up for that.”

Homura flushes. _That actually sounds-- wait! What am I doing?_ “I-- I’ll keep it in mind.”

“You do that.” Kyoko flashes her a wicked smile. “And... thanks. I don’t really have anyone to play this with.” Her eyes flit awkwardly to the side, evidently uncomfortable with this momentary display of vulnerability.

 _She can go from ‘let’s have sex’ to stammering over videogames?_ “I get that,” Homura offers, still a little pink. “I don’t know really know anyone who shares my hobbies either.” _Never mind that those hobbies are ‘chasing someone who doesn’t remember me’ and ‘aerating an alien rat’s skull every time I see him.’ Also, making bombs. Does making bombs count?_

Kyoko says nothing for a minute, so Homura busies herself with the clean-up, leaving Kyoko to stare up at the ceiling, hands clasped over her exposed navel.

“Didja really mean it? Kyoko asks. “About the… time travel?” Her voice has lost some of its characteristic brashness.

Homura stiffens, the water running over her fingers. _Here we go._ She closes the faucet and turns, drying her hands carefully on a towel. “I did.” She moves back to where Kyoko is reclining and sits against the bench, folding her knees up to her chest. “I know how it sounds, but it’s the nature of my wish. I can-- go back. I don’t expect you to believe me, so, ah… hold on.” She fumbles for her phone. It’s 6:55.

 _I guess the weather report?_ _It’s not very impressive, but nothing else notable is going on_. She tosses the phone to Kyoko. “6:55. Pull up the news. Use data-- I could be feeding you a fake DNS over wifi or something.”  
  
Kyoko takes the phone, hesitates, and then pulls out her own phone as well. Homura watches her type, thinking back. “In about… a minute, the weather’s going to come on. It comes on early today because there’s a storm blowing in.” She closes her eyes, reciting from memory now. “There’s a weather alert. Windspeeds of up to... 88 KPH. They advise business owners and people living downtown to secure anything left outside and warn that the power could go out.”

Kyoko’s phone buzzes, and she yelps, nearly dropping it. Homura glances down at her own. Both are displaying the same message. _Severe weather alert. Areas affected: Mitakihara City Center. Mitakihara Suburbs. Kazamino--_

Behind them, the weather report has come on. “--speeds of up to 88 kilometers per hour. Business owners and those situated downtown should secure anything left outside. The power--”

Kyoko swears softly under her breath, looking from the phone to the screen. Her eyes are wide. “Do something else.”

“Next up is the, uh… missing person report. ‘The body of student Sayaka Miki, missing for over two weeks, was discovered downtown’--” Homura breaks off as the report begins to talk over her, repeating her words. “You get the picture.”  
  
A couple of frantic searches later, Kyoko hands the phone back to Homura and slumps, still mouthing curses. “I… shit. How far back?” She doesn’t look at Homura, but her knuckles whiten where they’re interlocked.

The question shouldn’t be surprising, but the pang of pity that stabs at Homura’s chest startles her. _I’m sorry, Kyoko._ For once, Homura finds she means it _. Not far back enough for that._ Aloud, she says “About a month. I made the wish to protect someone… very dear to me.” The raw understatement of those words almost makes her laugh. “So I can go back far enough to repeat this month. As... many times as it takes.”

“Ya did it already? Before?”

“Yes.” So many times. So many dawns and dusks and slow, rolling stormclouds. So many times kneeling in the water, watching her-- watching Madoka--

Homura wrenches away from the memory with a shudder. _Not a good time. Can’t do that this time. Not now._ Her hands are shaking.

“Why’d ya have to go back?” Kyoko sits up, her eyes fixed on Homura. She looks scared. “What happens?”

“ _Walpurgisnacht.”_ Homura glances up, reflexively looking for floating diagrams that don’t exist. Not this time, at least. _When did I stop doing those? I look unprepared._ “About eighteen hours from now. I trust you’re familiar.” _Or in English, 'familiar.' Shadow figures laughing in the storm. Some of them... familiar. Ha-ha. I really am going insane._

“Yeah, with stories!” Kyoko’s eyes flash. “Everyone knows ‘em. Rumours are one thing. You’re sayin’ it’s comin’ _here?_ It came here?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’ya tell me before?” Kyoko looks shocked, angry. “This city’s-- you _knew?_ You knew and you just-- _”_

“Because it doesn’t matter.” Homura finds she can’t muster the motivation to bark back at Kyoko. “This iteration is already essentially over. I didn’t prepare to fight it this time, no one did, so there’s no point. After you leave I’m going to reset time again. And we’ll-- well, this will have never happened.” Her voice sounds bitter in her own ears.

Kyoko swears again. It strikes Homura just how helpless she looks, sitting there, twisting her too-long sleeves in her hands. _She can’t do anything. This was a mistake. Did I really think telling the truth would do anything? Did I just want to get this off my chest, play videogames? Flirt a little? I--_

“I need your help, Kyoko.” She realizes that it’s true even as she says it. “I really… really do. I’m losing track. Losing all of you. I haven’t been able to talk about it for a… long time. I want to do better.” Her voice cracks.

“All of us?” Kyoko still looks frightened, but her mouth crooks, puzzled.

“You don’t know them this time.” Homura scrubs at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Madoka Kaname. Sayaka Miki. Well, you know Mami. You’re all caught up in it. Always them-- and you-- and me.” She takes a deep breath. “We know-- we knew each other. Sometimes we were friendly. Sometimes we killed each other. And every time I reset, I lose a little bit of ground. Did you know we almost beat it, early on? All by ourselves. It was so close. No one died-- well, not at first-- but we almost had it. I keep telling myself, if I could just go back to that, I think-- I’m sure we could--”

 _I’m rambling._ She breaks off.

Kyoko just stares a her, an odd look in her eyes. _Pity? Disgust? She hates me now, just like last time. Say it. Say it! Tell me just what you think. I'll--  
_

“Any percent.”

“What?” Homura blinks.

“An any% run.” If Kyoko’s eyes were damp a minute ago, they’re clear now. Focused. “Speedrunners. Ya beat a game as fast as you can. You divide it up, and every part-- if you mess up, if you fail, ya do it over. Maybe you reset a hundred times. Maybe you miss something. All that matters is you beat the game, and you beat it one part at at time.” She sets a hand gingerly on Homura’s shoulder; Homura starts, but doesn’t pull away.

“I don’t get all of it,” Kyoko continues. “I don’t get the whole picture. But I get games, and if this is the same thing, you need to save-scum the _crap_ out of this.” She cocks her head. “Ya think you’re trapped? That you can’t move forward?” She stabs a thumb back at herself. “You already proved it to me once. Prove it to me again. Find me next time. Show me. I’ll-- I’ll remember. I’ll believe you again. Show Sayaka and Mad-- ma--”

“Madoka.”

“Show Madoka! Show Mami. Make them believe.” Kyoko is fierce. “Maybe Mami’ll laugh. Maybe she’ll ignore you. She can be hard t’talk to. So what.” Her fingers are tight on Homura’s shoulder. “You can find the right words. You can try again.”

“I keep trying.” Homura’s throat aches desperately. “I keep-- so many times.”

“Shhh.” Kyoko draws her into her arms and Homura closes her eyes, feeling tears leak down her cheeks onto the shoulder of Kyoko’s rumpled hoodie. Kyoko rocks slightly, holding her close. “Ya only need to get one thing at a time. Once is enough. Then the next part. And the next. You’ll get it right, you’ll know what to do. I know you will.”

Homura draws a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can remember everything.”

Kyoko’s voice is steady. “You can. You’ll remember. I’ll remember. We’re miracles, ya know? Awful, twisted ones, but--” She squeezes Homura’s hand. “Still miracles. I’ll remember.”

Homura smiles through her tears. “Miracles.” 

Kyoko nods against her hair. “Yeah. Don’t wait for the storm to get bad, okay?”

The rain has picked up outside now, and the wind whines against the tile. In a few hours it will blow harder, stripping dirt and grit from cracks and crevices, then dislodging trashcans, trees, and buildings: uprooting and tearing at the city's roots. Waves rising off the bay.  
  
The shield bleeds from concept to form against Homura’s wrist, and her fingers find the edge of the hourglass. “We’ll play that stupid game again. I’ll make you whatever you want to eat.”

Kyoko sighs. Her breath is warm. “I’d like that.”

The shield turns gently-- so gently-- and Homura feels Kyoko start to slip away, still hugging her, holding tight until her arms close on emptiness and she’s gone, everything’s gone, and the stars stand out stark and awful against that empty interstitial space. Then she’s falling, falling back out of herself, into the bed, into the past. The shield skitters past her and she watches it go, bleeding sand, spinning too long, too far, too fast to stop.

Kyoko doesn’t remember, of course.


End file.
